Chapter Text
The smell of burning tobacco hung in the air.
Her eyes traced the source of the smoke as she walked through the parking lot. In the corner stood a woman in a fur coat, a rhinestone-covered cellphone pressed to her ear. Though not disruptively loud, Lana could still make out her words clearly as she spoke between puffs, the cigarette sitting between long manicured nails.
Lana didn’t recognize her. She would have remembered someone like that. Perhaps a civilian brought in for questioning? Her gaze flicked away before she could think further about the matter. The wind, even as light as it was, cut through her coat. Of course her scarf wasn’t enough today. She should have worn her other coat. Quickening her pace, she exhaled. The sooner she made it inside the office, the better.
She swiped her badge and stepped into the low bustling of the office. “Morning,” greeted a voice, perhaps a bit too bubbly. She simply nodded in acknowledgement with a brief, faint smile and went straight to her desk. A glance at her wristwatch reminded her of a briefing in fifteen minutes. She gathered notes from her bag while scanning her emails.
It was nearly time for the meeting now. Grabbing her folder, she made her way to the conference room. She took a seat at the back end of the long table in the room as it slowly filled with low chatter.
In the distance was the sound of someone’s shoes clicking against the floor. She suddenly felt as though the faint smell of cigarette smoke still lingered in her nose. Just imagining it, she reasoned, until.. in the corner of her eye, she spotted the woman from the parking lot, taking a seat further up front.
Not a random civilian after all, then.
The lieutenant then entered and began the briefing. Though, Lana could barely register anything he was saying. Her mind was elsewhere, eyes locked on the stranger, until she was interrupted by colleagues next to her passing some documents around the table.
“Oh, right, before we proceed further, we have a transfer joining us today. This is Detective Angel Starr,” the lieutenant gestured. “Recommended to the homicide division.”
Angel Starr? A rather unusual name…
That’s right… Lana recalled hearing of a transfer in the process of being finalized in the past week, though she was never told who.
“Yes, that’s me. I look forward to working here,” Her voice, surprisingly crisp and untainted for a smoker, contained a sort of quiet toughness underneath, even in such brief words. The introduction was met with some nods and acknowledging murmurs.
Looking closer now, the woman wore a rather bold ensemble. Under her white fur jacket was a plunging black dress. Her long honeyed hair, covering one eye, was styled in loose ringlets under a dark beret. Lana had long since stopped wondering about the dress code, recalling the many times Detective Marshall walked around in full cowboy attire without even a sideways glance.
She averted her gaze. Focusing back on the board in front, Lana followed along with the words of the lieutenant. It was all the usual routine. Overview, updates, assignments..
“The Metro Art Museum double homicide from yesterday,” the lieutenant went on. “Recall that this wasn’t the only robbery there. Items started going missing in the weeks before, too. We’ve ID’d both the bodies of the robber and the museum co-owner Brian Liz. So far they’re saying it seems like a pretty open-and-shut case, a robbery that just went wrong.”
Across the room, it seemed all the detectives could offer in response were idle pen-clicks and chins resting in palms. Lana’s eyes darted down at her own pages of the case summary packet, the very same documents she spent last night combing through. Something wasn’t quite right, she sensed. What were the odds of two men shooting and killing each other simultaneously? If the silence were to go on any longer, then…
A hand rose. “I don’t think so. It seems staged,” The same smooth voice from earlier. The pen nearly slipped out of Lana’s hand as she looked up.
The room was suddenly swallowed by a brief stillness, with only the hum of the projector over the whiteboard audible. A number of detectives directed their gaze to Angel, with furrowed brows and sudden alertness coloring their faces. A chair creaked as someone shifted in their seat.
“Wasn’t it said that the room was dark when they discovered the bodies? Quite difficult to aim a gun in the dark.. Meaning the lights were turned off after the fact. And dead people don’t flip light switches.” Wide-eyed expressions and skeptical looks scattered across the room.
“Then who do you suppose did it?”
“The other co-owner, Joyce Liz. Turning off the lights after you leave.. seems like the habit of a museum owner. Or at the very least, a person who knows the place.”
“And what about the fact that she has an alibi for the time of the murder?”
Her undereye tightened just a bit. “Hm, well. That-”
“If I may,” Lana spoke, steady and contained, lifting her hand. The eyes were on her now. ”I find something else odd as well. The gun was found in the right hand of the perp, but a wristwatch was on his right wrist, suggesting he may have been left-handed instead. Robberies statistically rarely end in a victim’s death, much less double homicide. Detective.. Starr made a very sharp observation. The circumstances are indeed suspicious, warranting further investigation.”
“Hm. Very good, then. This case isn’t closed quite yet after all,” He lifted his marker to the board. The conclusion drew a few groans and eye-rolls from the group. The sound of papers shuffling sounds filled the space.
Angel glanced across the table and was met with Lana’s eyes. A brief pause. She swore Angel leaned forward just a fraction of an inch, slightly raising her visible brow.
“I want the reported missing artifacts list corroborated, access records, and another round of museum staff interviews, on my desk by the end of day,” the lieutenant pointed at the board. “Detective Starr, I’m especially interested in your findings after further investigation.” Their line of sight was broken as Angel turned toward the lieutenant.
The rest of the meeting went with no other notable incidents. Smoothing her skirt, Lana got up from her seat. They had all been sitting for too long. Pushing in her chair, she made her exit promptly.
Angel eyed the quiet manner Lana left from the reflection of the glass walls. The exchange from earlier played in her head once more as she twisted a lock of her hair between two fingers. She could have handled that earlier on her own, surely. Yet, it wasn’t a bad feeling either, hearing the words of that woman. It was just a shame that she didn’t catch her name. No matter. Certainly, she would find out soon enough.
· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·
“Chief,” said a boisterous voice. Lana raised her eyes just slightly from her computer to the figure standing before her.
Sergeant Dick Gumshoe. Somewhat rough around the edges but a rather earnest man. “I guess Gant’s out busy again, huh?” He said, looking around at the organ and the other half of the office. “Anyway. I, uh, got you the autopsy report for that drive-by shooting case yesterday, like I said.” He set the folder down on top of the other documents on her desk. She muttered a thank you as her hand reached for it, immediately thumbing through the pages.
“Oh, and that new Detective Starr was curious about this case too. Seemed kinda eager.”
Lana’s fingertips froze on the corner of a paper. “I suppose that’s not uncommon for someone on their first day here,” she said, without looking up.
He scratched the back of his neck, eyes flicking to the ceiling. “No, I mean.. actually, I met her once when I was in high school. It was winter... She’s always been really intense, even back then, y'know," he chuckled. There might have been a certain wistfulness in his eyes, though Lana couldn't discern if she was simply imagining it.
She let a couple of beats pass. “..I see,” was all Lana could offer in response, closing the report in hand.
Her mind began to race with those words. She suddenly found herself vaguely trying to sketch an outline of a younger version of the woman from earlier today, wondering if she always had such a striking look in her eyes.
A muffled ringing sounded from within Gumshoe's trench coat, taking her out of her thoughts. “Er, I have to get that, sorry. Later, Chief,” he waved, patting his pockets for the device as he shuffled away.
She turned to the monitor again. Once she heard the door close behind him she drew the cursor elsewhere.
Detective Starr’s file appeared on the screen, her photo staring back at her. Not too different from the face she saw earlier this morning.
Angelica Starr. Born 1986. No alma mater listed. Transferred from the Assault and Battery division at Station 33. Strong observation and interrogation skills. Tactics considered overly aggressive at times.
“Welcome.. Detective Angel Starr,” she murmured under her breath. A wild card. It would be a lie if she said she wasn’t even a little bit interested in seeing more of this woman.